Girl Power (14 page)

On Sunday, the girls met at two. They decided to walk to town to see if Carlie’s prints were ready yet. Fortunately they were, and after carefully looking at all of them, they picked out several that looked really good. They walked over to the newspaper office only to find that it was closed.

“We’ll bring them first thing tomorrow,” said Morgan.

Back at the Rainbow Bus, the girls settled in, opened some windows for fresh air, and shared a bag of Oreos provided by Carlie.

“When do we get the prize money?” asked Amy.

“The guy at the hotel said we can pick it up on Monday. He wants us all to come so we can get our picture taken.”

“Maybe we can just give him one of these,” said Carlie, holding up the packet of photos.

“My mom could give us a ride to the resort,” said Emily. “But then she couldn’t bring us home.”

“And it’s a long walk,” said Carlie.

“I’ll ask Grandma to drive us,” said Morgan.

“Should we decide how we want to use our prize money for the bus?” asked Amy, setting the notebook on the table
like she was ready to start writing things down.

“I thought I was the secretary,” said Emily, sliding the notebook over to herself.

“Is this an official meeting?” asked Morgan.

“I don’t know, Mad am President,” said Amy. “Is it?”

Morgan shrugged. “Why not?”

“Are you going to call the meeting to order?” asked Amy.

“Okay,” said Morgan in an even voice. “I realize that you like to do things your way, Amy, but since I’m president, I get to run the meeting my way. And I’m not into all that fancy-schmancy meeting rules stuff. I mean, it’s fine for Emily to take notes, if she wants to and needs to, and you can do whatever you think a treasurer should do. But I am a free spirit and I refuse to be put in a box.”

“Amen!” said Emily, stifling a giggle.

Morgan laughed. “You sound just like Walter Alpenheimer.”

“Who’s Walter Alpenheimer?” asked Amy.

“This guy at church who always says ‘Amen’ after everything.”

“Amen,” said Emily again.

“So, am I clear?” asked Morgan.

“Works for me,” said Carlie.

“Whatever,” said Amy.

“Okay,” began Morgan. “For starters, I would like to see us get some kind of new covering for that sorry old
couch.” She pointed to the faded and frayed fabric where some of the stuffing was starting to come out. “I mean, we cleaned and scrubbed it the best we could, and that blanket from my house sort of covers it up. But I think we could do better.”

“I agree,” said Emily.

“Me too,” said Carlie.

“How much do you think that will cost?” asked Amy.

Morgan considered this. “I don’t know. But we’ll get the best deal we can. And while I’m on that subject, I’d like something nicer to cover the bed with too. That mattress is kind of gross and the blanket sort of works, but you know how it slips off. I’d like to do something that makes it prettier and more comfortable. And we need more pillows, you know, so we can lean back there and read and stuff.”

Once again, everyone agreed.

“But how much will it cost?” demanded Amy.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said again. “Do you want to come with me to the fabric store?”

“Why don’t we all go?” suggested Carlie.

So it was agreed. After picking up the prize money and dropping off the photos, they would ask Grandma to take them to the fabric store.

“Do you think she’ll mind?” asked Emily.

Morgan laughed. “It’s a fabric store! She loves those places.”

So on Monday they all met at Morgan’s house, and Grandma drove them around to do their errands. They made their final stop the fabric store, which happened to be having a big clearance sale. To everyone’s relief, they found some great deals on fabric. After several discussions—and near arguments—about color, pattern, and style, they agreed that bright was better and selected a hot pink and orange zebra-striped plush fabric for both the couch and the bed. Amy was the only one with reservations about the bright colors, but even she seemed to be coming around as they picked out some fun prints for pillows.

“I guess I am a little conservative about color,” she admitted after everything was laid out in the bus. “I have to admit that this does really perk the place up.”

“And just think how good it will feel in here on some gray, foggy day,” Morgan pointed out.

“And there are plenty of those,” agreed Amy.

Then Morgan put everyone to work on a different part of the sewing project. And by the end of the day, they had both the bed and the couch covered with the new fabric.

“This feels so good,” said Amy as the four of them sprawled across the plush-covered bed. “It’s like sleeping on a teddy bear.”

“Well, I think that was a good accomplishment for today,” said Morgan. “We’ll work on the pillows tomorrow—maybe even finish up all the sewing
completely—and then I have something special planned for Wednesday and Thursday.”

“What?” asked Emily.

“An art project,” said Morgan. “Something to brighten up the walls.”

“How much will it cost?” asked Amy. “You know we only have forty-eight dollars and seventy-four cents left in our bus fund. And we need to keep some in reserves.”

“Reserves?” said Emily.

“Yes. In case of emergencies.”

“What kind of emergencies?” asked Carlie.

“You think we might get a flat tire?” teased Morgan.

“Or blow out our engine?” added Emily.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Something could come up. As treasurer, I recommend we keep at least $20 in our reserves. And I think we should consider having monthly fees.”

“Is this a business meeting?” asked Morgan, sitting up on the bed and looking at Amy.

“Well, no …”

Morgan flopped back down. “Good.”

“But you did say that you like doing things differently,” Amy reminded her. “So maybe it’s okay to have a business meeting while we’re lying down on the bed.”

“Fine,” said Morgan. “Might as well get it over with. Just so you know, I think keeping some money in our
reserves is probably a good idea. And $20 is plenty. But I’m not sure about monthly dues. Although I do think we could come up with ways to earn money if we decided we needed it. I just don’t want that to be the main focus of our club.” She held up her bracelet. “It’s more about friendship, you know.”

“I agree,” said Emily, relieved that she wouldn’t be pressured to come up with ways to pay her monthly dues. As it was, she didn’t even have an allowance yet.

“Me too,” said Carlie. “Now tell us about the art project, Morgan.”

“All I’ll say now is that it’s going to involve paint.” Morgan sighed. “And now for the bad news.”

“Bad news?” said Emily, sitting up. The other girls sat up too. Only Morgan remained in a reclined position, a sad expression over her face.

“What bad news?” asked Amy.

“Yeah, out with it,” said Carlie. “What’s going on?”

“Well, it’s funny because I would’ve considered this good news last summer. In fact, I remember begging my mom for this exact thing.”

“What?” demanded Emily as she pulled Morgan up to a sitting position.

“Yeah, quit stringing us along,” said Carlie.

“Okay. My mom goes to this big trade show every summer for people who run gift shops or tourist shops or
whatever. Anyway, she always comes home with lots of cool free stuff, and it always sounded so fun, and I always used to ask her if I could go. And now she invites me.”

“What’s so bad about that?” asked Emily.

“I’ll be gone for most of a week,” said Morgan sadly. “And we’ve been having so much fun hanging together, and the clubhouse is almost all fixed up, and …” She flopped back down again. “I’ll miss out on all the fun.”

“When do you go?” asked Emily.

“Next week.” Morgan groaned. “Mom gave me my airline ticket as an early birthday present. There’s no backing out now.”

“When’s your birthday?” asked Amy.

“July thirteenth.”

“Oh.”

“So you’ll be thirteen on the thirteenth?” said Amy.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Where’s the trade show?” asked Emily.

“All the way in Atlanta, Georgia.” Morgan just shook her head.

“I think it sounds pretty fun,” admitted Emily.

“And glamorous,” added Carlie.

“And you get free stuff?” said Amy.

Morgan sat up now and smiled. “But I’ll miss you guys so much.”

“We’ll miss you too,” said Emily. “But I’ll bet you’ll have lots of fun.”

“Besides,” Amy slapped her forehead. “I almost forgot … I have music camp next week.”

“Music camp?” Morgan frowned. “What is that?”

“It’s a camp that focuses on music,” said Amy. “Like, duh.”

“So you go there and play music?” asked Emily.

“Something like that. You’d have to be into music like I am to fully appreciate it.”

Morgan laughed. “In other words, a music geek.”

“Hey,” said Amy.

“Sorry,” said Morgan. “You’re not a music geek, Amy. I was just kidding.”

“Well, it’s kind of true,” admitted Amy. “I know I’m a geek. Other kids have been telling me that for years now.”

“You are not a geek,” said Emily.

“You’re just a little uptight sometimes,” said Carlie.

“Yeah,” said Morgan. “You do need to loosen up, Amy.” She laughed as she poked Amy in the ribs. “That’s probably why God gave you us.”

“Yeah,” said Carlie as they all started tickling Amy. “To loosen you up.” Then Amy was laughing so loudly that she made a hilarious snorting sound. That got them all laughing so hard that they actually had tears coming down their cheeks.

“Stop! Stop!” laughed Amy, even though the tickling had ended several minutes ago. “Or I’m going to burst.”

Finally it quieted down.

“So Amy and I will both be gone,” said Morgan. “What are you guys going to do without us?”

“Actually,” said Carlie. “It’s the Fourth of July this weekend, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Morgan. “Why?”

“I kind of forgot that I promised my mom I’d watch the boys while she and Tia Maria take a bookkeeping class at the community college. And I just remembered that the class was supposed to be the week after the Fourth of July.”

Morgan turned to Emily. “So, let me guess. You’re probably going somewhere too?”

Emily just shook her head. “Nope. I’ll be here.”

Morgan nodded. “Well, then you can look after things for us. I’ll put you officially in charge of the bus.”

Emily forced a smile. “Gee, thanks.”

“Speaking of the Fourth of July,” said Morgan. “Anybody got plans?”

“I plan to watch the fireworks.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Just like always.”

“Yeah,” said Morgan. “Did you guys know that you can see the fireworks from right here?”

“Yeah, big deal,” said Amy. “Everyone in Harbor View drags out their lawn chairs, sits around watching the big show, and then goes to bed.”

“Or you can watch it from the beach,” suggested Morgan.

“I think that sounds like fun,” said Carlie.

“Maybe we should make it even more fun,” said Morgan. “We could invite all the neighbors down for a hot dog roast on the beach, have a big campfire, and then watch the fireworks from there.”

“That sounds pretty good,” said Amy.

“I think it sounds great,” agreed Carlie.

“Maybe it could be a potluck,” said Morgan. “I’ll see if my grandma wants to help organize it.”

And suddenly they were all talking about the Fourth of July. Everyone except for Emily. All she could think about was that she had one whole week of being on her own. What would she do?

The girls, along with the other winners of the First Annual Boscoe Bay Resort Sandcastle-Building Contest, made the front page of Tuesday’s newspaper.

“Look at this,” said Amy as she read the part about how the girls had won “‘despite the mean-spirited sabotage of their artwork.’”

“They called SpongeBob SquarePants
artwork!
” said Amy.

“It
was
artwork,” insisted Morgan as she tossed a finished pillow at Amy’s head. The girls were working in the Rainbow Bus stuffing and sewing pillows closed.

Amy said, “Listen to this!”

“Are you still reading the paper?” said Morgan. “You’re supposed to be sewing, Amy.”

“I needed a break.” Amy frowned at her. “Now listen to what I just read on page three.
‘Vandals Strike Washington Elementary. Late Sunday night, juvenile vandals spray-painted graffiti and profanity on parts of Washington Elementary. Also, some windows were broken. According to school officials, the building was not entered. Estimate of property damage is listed at about $2,500.00. A minor has been
taken into custody for questioning. Police say that spray-paint cans found at the scene may link this crime to a similar act of vandalism that occurred at Harbor View Mobile-Home Court a few weeks ago.’
”

“Wow, do you think they caught Derrick Smith?” asked Emily.

“It definitely sounds like they caught the person who destroyed all our hard work cleaning up the trailer park this spring,” said Morgan.

By Friday, the girls had completely finished redecorating the inside of the Rainbow Bus. Morgan’s interior painting project—geometric designs of spots and stripes and plaids—had provided the bus with just the right final touches that it needed. To celebrate, the girls invited their families and Mr. Greeley to an impromptu “bus warming” that evening after dinner. And, of course, everyone was very impressed.

“I wonder why Mr. Greeley didn’t come,” said Morgan as they cleaned up the paper cups and napkins afterwards. Grandma, Morgan, and Emily had prepared refreshments of punch and cookies.

“Maybe he was busy,” said Carlie as she scooped cookie crumbs from the table into the garbage bag.

“Yeah, right,” said Emily. “Probably had a hot date.”

They laughed.

“Still, I wish he’d come see it,” said Morgan. “Don’t you think he’d be pleased with all we’ve done?”

“I don’t know,” said Emily as she put the leftover punch in the little fridge. “I still have the feeling that he doesn’t want anything to do with the bus. Like he gave it to us just to get it off his hands.” What she didn’t tell them was her suspicion that there could’ve been some kind of foul play between Mr. Greeley and Dan Watterson. She knew it was probably just her overactive imagination, but she still didn’t trust the old man.

“Whatever the reason …” said Carlie, collapsing onto their plush couch. “Aren’t we glad he did?”

Morgan picked up the beaded curtain that her mom had brought the girls as a housewarming gift. “Should we hang this up here?” she said as she held it up near the front door. “To make a good entrance?”

“That looks beautiful,” said Emily as she helped her attach the sticky tape to the ceiling.

“Perfect,” said Carlie when they finished.

“It’s all perfect,” said Amy.

“Then let’s call it a night,” said Morgan.

“I’m glad they caught the vandal,” said Emily as Morgan locked the door to the bus. “I’ve worried that whoever it was, whether it’s Derrick or some other crazy person, might hit our bus.”

“I had the same thought,” admitted Amy.

“Me too,” said Morgan. “I actually pray that God will protect our bus.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Emily.

“Yeah,” agreed Carlie as she bent down to pinch a dead leaf off the pot of geraniums that she’d set by the bus door. “Maybe we should do some kind of bus blessing. I’ve been to house blessings before. You know, when someone moves into a new place, they get their friends to come and bless it. Kind of like our bus warming tonight.”

“Good idea,” said Morgan. “Maybe we should do it right now.”

So the four girls stood outside while Morgan led them in a prayer for the bus, asking God to keep it safe and to make it a happy place for them to hang out together. Then she stopped. “Anyone else want to pray?” So Emily thanked God for giving them the bus as well as their friendships, and she asked God to bless their club.

“Anyone else?” asked Morgan.

So now Carlie prayed, mostly repeating what Morgan and Emily had said, but it sounded sincere.

Morgan glanced at Amy. “You want to add anything?”

Amy just shrugged. “I think that was good. Besides I don’t really know how to pray.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn,” said Morgan.

“Yeah,” agreed Emily. “It’s not hard. It’s just talking to God.”

On Saturday night, most of the neighbors of Harbor View Mobile-Home Court trekked down to the beach for
a hot dog roast, potluck, and fireworks. And when it was all over with, Amy admitted that it was the best Fourth of July in their neighborhood—ever.

And even though Emily had lived there less than two months, she had to agree.

On Sunday, Morgan handed the bus key over to Emily. And by Monday, everyone seemed to have left town.

Of course, Carlie was still around. But Emily knew that Carlie would have her hands full with her two little brothers. And so Emily would be mostly on her own.

On Monday, Emily slowly walked over to the bus. No reason to hurry since no one would be there today—or anytime this week. It was foggy and chilly this morning and Emily wished she’d put on long pants instead of her thin, cotton shorts. But she remembered that Carlie’s dad had recently tested out the little heater to make sure that it was safe. She might be lonely, but she didn’t have to be cold. As soon as she was inside and had locked the door (Morgan’s recommendation for any of the girls who were in the bus alone), she turned on the heater and just walked around. Morgan had been right about the bright colors. They did make the place feel warm and cheerful on a gray day. Even so, Emily knew it would be much warmer and cheerier if her friends were here. Even Amy, who could be cantankerous sometimes, would be an improvement over this solitude.

“Get over it,” she said aloud as she walked to the back of the bus, trying to decide what to do. Then she remembered the box of books that was still underneath the bed. With all their recent activities, she had nearly forgotten it. And now would be a good time to sort and place the books up on the empty bookshelf over the bed. Plus the books would make the place look even better—more lived in. So she removed all the pillows and lifted up the mattress. And there, not only was the box of books, but also the record albums and the record player that they hadn’t even tried out yet.

“No time like now,” she said as she removed all the items and finally closed the bed and replaced the pillows. First, she took the record player up to the front of the bus. She set it on the passenger seat, near an electrical outlet, and plugged it in. Remembering Mr. Garcia’s warning about not running too much electricity at once, she turned off the heater before turning on the record player. To her pleased surprise, it worked.

She went back for the apple crate of old vinyl records, placing it on the floor near the dashboard. Then she began to flip through the records, wondering which one to start with. Finally she decided on Elton John. At least she knew who that was. She slipped the big, black vinyl disk out of the cardboard album jacket, carefully placed it on the turntable, and turned it on. There was a switch with three
numbers—78, 45, and 33. She had no idea what they were for, but remembered hearing Morgan calling these records 33s, so she switched it to that. Then she lifted up the arm and set it to rest on the turning record, and suddenly there was quiet music coming out. She turned the volume up and went to the couch to sit and listen. Very nice. She decided that she liked Elton John.

She left the music playing and started to put books on the shelf. Suddenly it occurred to her that this was kind of nice. She had good music, interesting books, and a cool place to hang out. And it was kind of a relief having it quiet in here for a change. Like it gave her time to think. Plus, with no one chattering away or looking over her shoulder, she could really check out the books as she placed them, one by one, on the shelf. She took her time to open the mysteries, read the first few lines, and decide which one she might like to read first. She noticed that Dan Watterson’s name was written in some of the books and, once again, she wondered about this guy. Who he was? And what had been his connection to this bus?

As she was getting the books arranged, she pulled out the old high school yearbook again. She flipped around to the pages that had pictures of Dan Watterson. She noticed that he was most often pictured with a girl with long, dark hair. Finally Emily found the girl’s name by a photo of the two of them in formal attire. Stephanie Chetwood.
She looked up the girl in the senior section, but found she wasn’t there. So she looked in the junior section and, sure enough, there was Stephanie Chetwood. So she had been a year younger than Dan. Emily thought the girl was really pretty—even by today’s standards. She had big, dark eyes and straight, dark hair.

Emily looked back through the handwritten notes in the yearbook, hoping to find what Stephanie had said about Dan. And there, tucked two pages from the back was a very tiny note, written in very small handwriting that had faded a bit with time. Emily squinted to read it. “‘To Dan, the love of my life, your Steph.’”

“Wow,” said Emily as she read it again. “The love of his life.” She closed the book and wondered if they might’ve gotten married. Maybe Dan graduated and went to college. And maybe Steph did too, and then maybe they got married and had kids. Hey, it was possible that they could actually live in town. Right here in Boscoe Bay! What Emily needed was a phone book. And since they’d just gotten their phone last week, she knew just where to find one.

She turned off the record player, locked the bus, and dashed home to check their new phone book. But there was no Dan Watterson listed. In fact, no one by that last name was listed. She closed the book and sighed. There must be some way to find out this guy’s whereabouts. She
wished she was brave enough to ask Mr. Greeley, but since he hadn’t come to their bus-warming party, and no one had seen him at the Fourth of July hot dog roast, she got the feeling that he was lying low and not wishing for company.

Emily wondered about Morgan’s grandma. She knew that Grandma had only lived in Harbor View for the last ten years, after she had retired from teaching high school in another town. It seemed unlikely that she would know. Besides, knowing Morgan, she’d probably already asked. Then Emily remembered Mrs. Hard wick and her son who worked at the newspaper. She seemed to know a lot of people. And she was friendly too. Maybe Emily could ask her. But first she put on her jeans and a sweatshirt. Then she tucked an apple and granola bar into her big front pocket for lunch and took off, heading for Mrs. Hardwick’s for a quick visit.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she said when the older woman came to the door.

“Not at all,” said the woman. “You’re Emily, right?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to take too much of your time, but I’m curious if you’ve lived here very long.”

“In Harbor View Mobile-Home Court?” asked the woman.

“Yes.”

“Goodness, it’s been … let’s see … I think about twenty-five years. Or thereabouts.”

“Wow, that’s a long time,” said Emily.

Mrs. Hardwick laughed. “Well, for a young person, I suppose it seems that way. I was about fifty when I moved here from Ridgeport. My husband had just passed and I didn’t like living in a big old house by myself.”

Emily nodded. “Did you ever know a man named Dan Watterson?”

Mrs. Hardwick frowned. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. Did he live here?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I think I’ve lived in the court longer than anyone—other than Mr. Greeley.”

“How long has he been here?” asked Emily, suddenly wishing she’d thought to write out some questions.

“Well, he started up the place. And it was still pretty new when I moved in here. Only about five or six other mobile homes had been set in place at the time. But I think it had been running for a few years by then.” She looked carefully at Emily. “Are you girls working on some new kind of project now? Writing up the history of the place?”

“Not exactly,” said Emily. “We’re just curious.”

Mrs. Hardwick smiled. “Well, that’s nice. It’s refreshing to see some kids taking an interest in something besides their fancy computers and televisions.”

Emily smiled. “Thanks. I better go now.”

The old woman waved as Emily walked away. She tried not to laugh about the “fancy computer” comment.
Emily hadn’t had a computer to use for nearly two months now. And they’d only gotten their hand-me-down TV a week ago. And since they didn’t even have cable, it wasn’t too tempting to turn into a couch potato. Still, Mrs. Hardwick’s computer comment gave Emily an idea. And instead of returning to the bus, Emily headed to town. It was about an eight-minute walk from the trailer park, six if you walked fast. She took her time and ate her apple and granola bar along the way.

Emily had seen the public library from the street, but up until now she hadn’t been inside. It was a small building with the same musty book smell that all libraries seemed to have. Emily stopped at the front desk and asked the small, white-haired lady about computers.

“We have four set up right over by the window for public use,” said the woman.

“Do you have to have a library card?” asked Emily.

“No, anyone can use them, dear. Just read the rules posted there and be courteous to other patrons.”

Emily thanked her and said, “As long as I’m here, may I have an application for a library card? I actually do like to read too.”

The woman smiled as she handed her a yellow piece of paper. “Then you came to the right place.”

So Emily took the application and went over to the computer section where she logged in and then tried several
different searches on the name “Daniel Watterson.” The first search, with only his name, provided so many references that it would take her a lifetime to read them all, so she decided to narrow it down by trying his name along with “Boscoe Bay News.” This resulted in several old sports stories about the Boscoe Bay Cougars and Dan’s athletic contributions during his high school career. There were also many references to college scholarships. So she decided to try those. Unfortunately the ones she attempted to trace seemed to have nothing to do with her Dan Watterson. Finally she gave up.